Aníron
by The X-Woman
Summary: **SLASH** Frodo/Sam Desire ~ An emotion directed to the attainment or possession of any object; An object of longing. Frodo and Sam reconcile thier fears after splitting from the Company.


Disclaimer: Frodo and Sam belong to Tolkien and perhaps each other; Elijah and Sean belong to me. **evil grin** No copyright infringement intended.

Author's Note: This is my first attempted fic for the _Lord of the Rings_, and so many apologies. It is based on the first book right after it ends. However, if you have seen the film and not read the book, or you haven't read the book in a while, you'll understand what's going on mainly, but some of the little details will not make any sense to you. 

My second warning is that I have not yet read _The Two Towers_, so if anything written here is repetitive of something that happens in that book, please have mercy on me. 

The title of the story comes from the elfish word for "desire", which I got from the soundtrack of the movie, from the "Theme for Aragorn and Arwen" of the same name. 

Archive: Yes, anywhere… but please keep my name and disclaimer attached.

****

OOO

Type: Angst, Slash(Frodo/Sam), Romance, Immediately following _Fellowship of the Ring_

Rating: PG-13 (implications of consenting sexual acts between two males)

Spoilers: The entire first book of the series, but if you haven't read the second two yet, you're in the clear. Cause neither have I. Heh heh heh.

Summary: _Desire_ ~ An emotion directed to the attainment or possession of any object; An object of longing. (Webster's New Universal Unabridged Dictionary.)

****

OOO

"Aníron"

by The X-Woman

http://geocities.com/starlightstudio1121

****

OOO

The river bubbled quietly within the wood that was quickly falling into a night shadow. The sky was turning a dark, whispering blue splashed with the many colours of the sunset, and the twilight made it easier for the two hobbits to slip through the wood unnoticed, even with their light elfin boat carried between them. 

Sam pointed out a large boulder beyond the shore, and the two carried the boat to that point and hid it carefully behind the boulder, out of sight of any casual passer-by that may chance upon that area. However, they knew if what was left of the Company followed close behind, or orcs, or even Gollum, it would not take too keen an eye to find the hidden vessel. However, the two planned to be long on their way to the Mordor before, by friend or foe, the boat was found. 

Sam sat on the side of the boat when it was finally nestled into its hiding place, and caught his breath deeply, wiping a dirtied sleeve across his brow. Frodo dug into a pack and pulled out two slightly stale _lembas_, one that he offered quietly to Sam. Sam looked longingly at the bread, but then sighed and turned the offer away. Frodo looked down at the two wrapped goods in his hand and, looking first back up at Sam, slipped both of them back into his shoulder bag. He then shrugged. "If you will not eat, Sam, neither will I. We have a long, dangerous journey ahead for us both, and I say that, thick or thin, we chance all of it together."

Sam blushed slightly and nodded. "I agree, Mr. Frodo. If you wish. I simply thought that with the journey ahead, it may be wise the ration what we have of food."

"Most of it was left back with the rest of the company." Frodo added. "So I suppose that you have thought up a good idea, Samwise Gamgee."

_One of few I have had on this horrid journey,_ Sam added, but gave no outside reply other than a curt nod. Frodo stood, and slung a pack over his pack. "Night is almost upon us, and the journey is long ahead. Shall we head on?"

Sam looked back along the path they had come from across the river, and sighed inaudibly. "Let us."

Sam shouldered his own pack, and the two began the decent from the boulder into the heart of a forest that lay before them. As darkness began to cover the land around them, Sam felt a darkness seep into his own heart, and he sighed and quickened his pace to keep closer behind Frodo.

He watched his old friend from behind as they stumbled over rough terrain, and Sam felt as if he was traveling with a stranger. This Frodo Baggins looked close to nothing like the Frodo that Sam had left their beloved Shire with one bright morning, what seemed like a lifetime before. Frodo was much slimmer; his hobbit fat was gone, stripped away from exercise, lack of nourishment, and thousands of other factors that built up over their journey. His usually clean, shining face was caked with dirt and dark, dried blood, and Sam found that when he looked into Frodo's eyes, they held a certain sadness about them. A heaviness that, months before, had never been there.

Soon, the darkness hid from his sight the surroundings that had seemed to bear down upon the couple, and after only a few hours more of travel, the moon hid, making the thick darkness upon them impossibly suffocating. Finally, after stubbing multiple toes and almost walking into a tree or two, Sam stumbled and fell to his knees, scraping them on the dirt and hitting his palms. He bit his lip to hold back the prickling pain of the cuts, and felt Frodo's hands upon his back and shoulder, helping him stumble back to his feet.

"Sam, friend, are you alright?"

Sam's nod was unseen in the darkness, and he added quietly, "I'm well. This hurt is no worse than any suffered before on this quest." 

"Perhaps it's time that we stop and rest for the night." Frodo commented. "We can't see a thing without the moon, and if we keep trying to travel blind, it can only end in tragedy. Come, Sam, and help me find a place to settle, and we will treat your cuts as well as we can."

They struggled through the dark, and though Sam could see almost nothing, he felt that Frodo could almost see quit clearly through the dark. That bothered him, for as long as he knew Frodo, he knew that, like any other hobbit, Frodo's sight in blackness was as failing as his own. He wondered if it had to do with the wraith wound he had suffered, or even perhaps a side effect from the Ring itself. 

Finally, the two found a well-hidden cranny behind an inset boulder. Carefully, Frodo slid their baggage into it, and collected a small bundle of sticks that he tossed in after, for light and a fire. He then helped Sam in and slid in after him, and the two fit snugly but comfortably into the small hole. 

Frodo assured Sam that in the hole it would be unlikely that an enemy may catch sight of it, and regardless, Frodo needed light to treat Sam's wounds. Sam reluctantly agreed with the idea, too fatigued to struggle with his master. Frodo craftily started a small fire in the corner of the tiny hole, and then pulled aside a bag, reaching for a small first-aid kit he had put together quickly with some of the supplies they had received from the elves at Lórien. He also took out his own water bottle, and ripping a piece of cloth from his pants, he poured water over it and gently dabbed at the cuts on Sam's knees. After treating the cuts with a bit of elfin ointment, he took Sam's hands and began to clean the dirt from the cuts. 

Sam watched Frodo closely as he handled him, watching the intense, blue, deepened eyes as they concentrated on the task at before them. Frodo's touch was soft; it brought Sam back to a time long before the Ring, or the Quest, or anything that may have brought pain. Only a few years after Frodo had come to live with Bilbo, and Sam was still quite young. The two had played together in the hills of the Shire, running through the grass and tumbling in the fields. Sam had fell and cut his arm deeply, and Frodo, younger but with the same beautiful, blue eyes, had held his arm in a gentle grasp and treated the nasty cut. Sam had touched his bandaged arm and lifted his eyes to meet Frodo's, to give him a word of thanks, but he fell into those blue eyes and remained there, no words escaping his frozen lips. Even at that young age, with that newborn feeling within his heart that he was too innocent to name, he had known that this feeling would never escape him, or perhaps he would never escape it. He loved Frodo. 

That wasn't necessarily why he would follow him to the ends of the earth, as he did now, and quite beyond. That was loyalty to his friend, and even without the tightening within his heart when he gazed into Frodo's eyes, he would still follow Frodo because he was his friend, and if friends were not there in times of need, what good would they ever be? Even with his need to be near Frodo, the reason why he followed his every move even when not invited, and slept a close as comfort would allow within the night, it was not all that drove him. He had, since his childhood, and even more since Bilbo had left the Shire, felt a life debt to Frodo, and imagining life without the older hobbit at his side, was, if not unimaginable, at the least, frightening.

Sam felt Frodo's fingers linger for a moment before pulling away and wrapping the aid kit back into a cloth and slipping it into his bag. He pulled out two of the biscuits he had taken out earlier and forced one into Sam's hand. 

"Eat." He commanded. "I won't have you starving on this already terrible journey."

Sam complied and unwrapped the stale biscuit, eating it and savoring the taste, regardless of how old it may be. He watched Frodo chew his own biscuit, the older hobbit keeping his distance, but his eyes wandered up to meet Sam's every once in a while.

Sam finished his biscuit and felt fuller, and his wounds treated, he was feeling almost comfortable. He poked the fire to keep it alive, and tiled his head toward Frodo.

"Mr. Frodo… why didn't you want me to come with you? Why didn't you tell anyone that you were going?"

Frodo looked alarmed by the question, and his hand wandered up to grasp the Ring hidden beneath the cloak the elves had given him. He sighed. "I thought that you would understand, Sam. Boromir… he tried to take the Ring."

Sam, shocked, widened his eyes. "I should have guessed as much! I knew that you would not run like that unless you had been greatly frightened or threatened. That man…" he grunted and crossed his arms. "I should have guessed he would try to take the Ring."

Frodo shrugged. "Do not speak unkindly of Boromir. The Ring held a power over him that he could not help. And, I escaped, so no great damage was done."

"Except to the Fellowship!" Sam exclaimed. "And, you were even going to leave _me_, Mr. Frodo!"

Frodo smiled and shook his head. "My dear, kind, simple Sam. I feared for your safety, for Pippin and Merry, and even the other, stronger ones in our company. It would have been best if you had let me go, Sam."

Sam frowned, fearful that he had angered Frodo, but to look in the other hobbit's eyes assured him that anger wasn't to fear. Just sadness. 

"I feared for the lives of any that went with me to Mount Doom. I don't chance to think that we will live to see the Shire again, Sam." 

Sam looked away and fiddled with a stick on the dirty ground. He saw that fear and sadness in Frodo's eyes, that certainty of death that lay before them. But he also saw something else. He was a simple hobbit, maybe, but not stupid, especially in matters of Frodo Baggins. He knew why else Frodo had left to go alone. 

"You were afraid that if the Ring had power over Boromir as it did, it may develop power over us, too. And, if we overpowered you and took the Ring…" Sam suddenly felt uncomfortable, and noticed that Frodo seemed to by shying away from him, as much as he could in the space that surrounded him.

"You speak foolishly, Sam." Frodo tried to say with confidence and some kidding, but it came off awkwardly, forced. "I feared only for your safety."

Sam felt his heart tighten. He had never known Frodo to lie to him so blatantly as this; they had been friends since they were young, and Sam was Frodo's confidant. He had once told Sam that above all, it was Sam that he could trust with anything. Of course, that was long before this journey had begun, and since then many things that had once been believed were no longer so. The world was not as innocent as it had been within the Shire. Sam almost felt relieved that he may never return to his home, for the horrors he had known, the evil he had begun to touch, should never taint the Shire with its wickedness. 

"Please, Mr. Frodo." Sam felt he could barely speak. "Don't lie to me. Tell me the truth. You fear that even I may take the Ring from you."

Frodo turned away, and Sam thought he saw a single tear slide down the hobbit's smooth face. He was overwhelmed with the need to move toward Frodo, wrap him into his arms and hold him close, kiss the tears from his cheeks and have him smile as he did once before, in the days that they would play together in the Shire. 

"You have been to close to me so often Sam. Guarding me as if I am your lifeline." He grasped the Ring again, as if he would shortly have the need to use it. Sam saw the power the Ring had over Frodo, and that sent a chill of fear down his spine. He wanted to rip the Ring away from his friend, cast it far away and return back to their home, or live together within the wood and never give another thought to the evil as long as they lived.

But, he knew that it was never possible. They had made a promise, an important promise that they must live to play out. He stared at Frodo sadly.

"Mr. Frodo… you mean everything to me. I would never leave you!"

"Not since the Ring came!" Frodo fought. "You follow me, rarely let me leave your sight. As far as I know, you have your eye on the One Ring for your own uses!"

Though Sam knew it was silly, Frodo's words pierced him like orc swords. He moved closer to Frodo, who tried to back away but had no more room to move within the tiny cubby. Sam continued to advance upon the older hobbit, until there was no room between them and their noses almost touched. Sam stared into Frodo's eyes. "Look at me, Frodo. See what is in my eyes. Is that need for the Ring? I swore to stay at your side, and that promise I will not abandon. We are lifelong friends, and I will not leave you behind."

Frodo, still grasping the Ring in his hand, shook his head. "No, Sam. Our friendship is lost. It is the Ring you desire."

Sam reached up his hand and grasped Frodo's, pulling it away from the Ring that hang around his neck. But, he did not grasp the Ring then, but instead folded his fingers around Frodo's, never leaving his eyes.

"No, Frodo. It is _you_ that I desire." Frodo looked slightly alarmed and blinked deeply. Sam took another breath and tightened the grip on his hand. "Since we were children, I have loved you. I follow you because I want to watch out for you, because if I ever lost you…"

He stopped there, suddenly realizing what he was saying. He let go of Frodo's hand and pulled away from him, trying to put distance between them in the cubby and failing miserably. He poked the fire again as Frodo sat, quiet, his empty hand still hovering in the air, the Ring forgotten.

Finally, after what could have been moments or hours, Frodo looked up at his friend, and spoke quietly.

"Sam. Do you… do you mean what you say? That you… you love me?"

Sam blushed furiously, looking down at his hand. "Yes." He whispered. Frodo moved closer to him, and placed his hand on his face, turning the younger hobbit toward him.

"I love you, too." He told him gently. "I… I don't think I knew for a long time, but I do. I wanted you to come with me, but I was afraid. Afraid that I… I would lose you. Or that you may betray me. And, I could never live with that."

"I could never betray you, Mr. Frodo." Sam spoke gently. He reached up and placed his own hand on Frodo's cheek. "I could never live with that."

Frodo licked his lips, and then leaned in slowly, met halfway by Sam. Their first kiss was gentle and kind, a sudden break from the evil that had seemed to surround them for so long. The kiss deepened, and their hands wandered over the other's body, first gently, and then with a desire that they needed to sate before they could finish their great journey – together.

Afterwards, Sam lay with his head on his beloved Frodo's chest, feeling his breath slow in the lull of much needed sleep. He watched his friend's face in the dwindling firelight, and saw how the tiny ring, still hung from the hobbit's neck. Sam had refrained from trying to remove the Ring during their lovemaking, though the idea of it remaining between them as they were comforted by the gentle touch of the other bothered Sam greatly. But, he feared Frodo's fear from Sam's true desire, and tried to ignore the evil of the Ring.

He passed his hand gently over Frodo's chest and pressed himself harder against the other hobbit, trying to bury himself within him, to perhaps hide himself from that which surrounded him. It was then that he made a promise that both he and Frodo would succeed, and walk away from the fires of Mount Doom, hand in hand perhaps, and return to the Shire. While the Shire needed not to know of the horrors this journey had brought, it needed to know of the love that had been brought because of it. And, in the warmth of the Shire, Sam knew he and Frodo would be together, without the weight of the Ring upon them. 

Closing his eyes, Sam let himself slip into sleep, content with his master, his friend, his One Love, so close to him. "Love conquers all", he had heard someone once say, and their love would no doubt conquer this evil ring. He and Frodo would not allow themselves to fall victim to it, because it did not hold their desire. Sam's only desire he now finally had.

They slept soundly until the rising of the sun.


End file.
